


concert fever

by sassastrophe (regulardudetier)



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: AU, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-09-27
Updated: 2013-11-04
Packaged: 2017-11-15 04:06:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 9,325
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/522966
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/regulardudetier/pseuds/sassastrophe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><span class="small">One Direction is only made up of the four members Liam, Niall, Zayn, and </span><i>Louis</i>. <span class="small">And Harry is just a teenage boy in Holmes Chapel who definitely doesn't have an obsession for the band and definitely isn't in love with Louis, not at all.</span><br/><span class="small">That's what he'll keep telling himself, anyways.</span></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

Harry has never been the type of person to go to concerts because frankly, he's never had an artist come to his town that he's been really interested in seeing. He tells himself this as the dial rings for the third time in the past five minutes, frantically calling in to Radio 1 because he doesn't care about seeing One Direction at all, not at all. He hasn't been charting their journey on X Factor since day one that they were put together, he doesn't think they're all ridiculously talented and that he slightly wishes he too could be in their place, it's not that at all.

He's _shy_. Harry is downright shy and terrible at dealing with people sometimes and the anxiety of concerts always got to him so he'll be forever embarrassed at noting that his very first concert was not some cool great band like Coldplay (he hates himself for not buying tickets when they came to Manchester and he knew he could make the hour drive by himself) but instead his first concert was Backstreet Boys because Gemma was absolutely wild for them. Is absolutely wild for them. He'll opt for saying that no, he wasn't singing crazily along to Shape of My Heart and he didn't buy a tour shirt either that he's still got stuffed somewhere in the back of his closet.

"What's your name?" is the first thing that the gravelly voice of Nick Grimshaw asks him because he has to remind himself that he's skipping a class right now to listen to the Breakfast Show to win tickets to see One Direction. He replies quickly with a "Harry Styles" and the older man laughs in a somewhat surprised manner that maybe he doesn't get many male callers interested in boy band tickets. 

"Congratulations, Harry Styles! You've just won yourself a pair of tickets to the hottest show in the world. Who's your favorite boy? There's only four of them, pick wisely." It's a teasing voice, Harry can't tell if he's truly being made fun of or if it's just the radio shtick. "The puppy dog and first-verse man, Liam? He's got a girlfriend mind you. The Irish charmer, Niall? I hear he's not into dating. Or maybe Bradford Bad Boy, Zayn Malik? Though isn't he dating that bird from Little Mix? Or maybe," Nick pauses finally, Harry isn't sure if he'll ever get a word in, "maybe it's that _lovely_ piece of work, Louis Tomlinson."

Now, now he can hear the teasing in the voice of this radio host who can't seem to stop talking even at eight in the morning. And Harry realizes he's going to be on air so he has to pick up a quick lie, something like "Oh for my sis, she just loves Liam." He's frozen waiting for a response, and when one finally comes (in the form of laughing and 'yes, yes, right, what a good brother') and Harry is able to give his mailing address and mobile number and an expected date of when to receive the tickets with a 'congratulations!' and he hangs up with haste. 

Harry's never really come to proper terms with his sexuality. At eighteen, most people would have an idea of who they want to marry and what they want to maybe do with their life or where they want to go. Harry knows he doesn't care. He's never cared. He didn't care when his mum caught him making out with some blonde after going on a coffee date, he didn't care when she caught him _almost_ sucking off some bloke who ended up being a real jerk anyways. He was eighteen and he didn't care. 

Louis. Louis Tomlinson was his epitome of the word perfect. Twenty years old with perfect glowing skin and gorgeous chocolate brown fringe. He was tall, fit, sometimes had a little bit of a pudge when he wore those specific Topman shirts that only made him seem more lovable, and had a voice that one could either love or hate. Harry loved it. It was real. It wasn't modified, it wasn't trained, it was real. Louis had his off days where he was real shit and then he had the days where he was perfect and Harry loved that. 

Everyone's favorite thing about Louis (Harry included) though was the pair of oceanic blue eyes that were mesmerizing and animated and sparkling when the light hit them just right. Louis was too much of a perfect human being, too unreal. Harry had always wanted to run his hands through his hair, look into his eyes, experience Louis singing to him and only him. It reeked of cheese but he just always felt so happy when he saw Louis whether it was on TV or on his computer when watching random videos or seeing pictures pop up of their recent signings or promotions or even candids. 

"Alright, popstar. No more skipping classes, but I suppose a congratulations is in order." 

The voice catches him off guard and he jumps in a turn-around spill to find his mum standing in the doorway. Eighteen years old, still living at home. "Sorry. I just really..."

"Yes yes, I know. Teenage woes, you're such a girl." She laughed, flashing him pearly whites and bright eyes and Harry's heart melted. "Are you excited? Who are you going to bring?" 

And it never really occurred to him who he'd bring. He won a pair of tickets. For most people this sort of thing wouldn't be that much of a problem, however Harry had several issues surrounding this predicament. One being that he was male and eighteen and no one expected him to be into this sort of music (though if his mum heard him on the radio he was sure a million other people he knew in passing heard him). Two was that he didn't have any friends that would willingly go with him to this concert because his third reason was that he didn't exactly let on that his obsession with the boy band was only for one of the members. Of the boy band.

"Maybe Sally or Henry," he muses. Sally is a girl in his pre-law that he's never spoken to but he always sees her name on the roster. Henry is a boy in his maths that he has spoken to but it telling him to 'fuck off' because he wouldn't stop teasing him about his hair.

Anne smiles worriedly, leaning up against the doorframe. "You know Gem or I will gladly go with you, babe. You don't need to be ashamed. I can be your hot date," she winks and he shudders. "You'll find someone to go with!"

*

Harry Styles ends up going to the One Direction concert with his mother. The tickets he's won are fairly close to the second stage in the arena, he's chuffed out of his mind to find that they're floor seats. He's got a bottle of water in one hand, his phone in another, and he's smiling and cheering and clapping and singing and everything is right. 

It turns out that there are several other males around his age at the concert, all without girlfriends and without shame as they belt the words to famous singles and do Inbetweeners dances and rap along to Fresh Prince. 

They take the second stage for an acoustic performance of a love song from their latest album where they've become well-known to picking random people from the audience to come up and be sung to. Harry's on a beer now, nursing it politely as the hundreds of young females crowd around the barricades, all with hopes that maybe one of them will be picked. 

"Having a good night, Manchester?" Liam crows out to the arena, met with an uproar. "We're having a great night as well! You've been such an amazing crowd, we're blown away!" 

"Did you know, Liam," comes the sweet sing-song voice of one Louis Tomlinson, "that there are twenty-thousand people in here right now? All around the edges and filling up the corners and seats. Can you believe that twenty-thousand people have come to see us in Manchester?" His laugh is sugary.

"Only twenty-thousand?"

Louis grins. "I think we owe them a song, boys! How about that one, what was it called? Talk To Me! Are you in for that, then?" He's met with more screaming. "Let's find us some dates, how about it."

And in seconds, they've disappeared briefly off the stage, walking around the barricades and looking for their fans to serenade. Before long, Liam and Niall and Zayn have each picked a girl and brought them (crying and blubbering) onto the stage and sat them down on a stool. It is then that Harry breaks away from his mother (shoving his pint into her hands) and makes his way to the edge just to see. If he could even get a close glimpse of the perfection that he has decided Louis is, it would make his night. The spotlight moves closer towards Harry's section, and he's got his phone out ready to snap any sort of photo of the boy. 

"How about you, curly-haired?"

It takes a few seconds to register that Louis Tomlinson is right in front of _him_ , talking to _him_ , picking _him_. And Louis Tomlinson is motioning for security to pick Harry's tiny body up over the gate and Louis Tomlinson is grabbing Harry's wrist and pulling him up the stairs, up to the stage.

And Harry is about to be serenaded to by Louis Tomlinson. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i know this is short, but i’m not the type of person who writes super long chapters. otherwise it starts to feel like it’s just boring and continuing on for no apparent reason, i’m really bad at writing long chapters. but i hope you enjoy!

"You're alright. Just keep walking."

He's struggling to take the few steps forward, struggling because Louis fucking Tomlinson has his hand pressed against his back, guiding him towards the stairs for the raised stage platform. Struggling to hear a word the singer was saying to him over the bellowing crowds. Even with his voice, sweet and soft against his eardrums. And yet.

And yet, despite the screaming thousands of females that surrounded him in the arena, he felt like he and Louis were the only people there. Maybe it was the physical contact, the hushed tones, the closed space between them. 

Maybe it was a dream.

Harry would wake up, right? Wake up, clutching his pillow or something to that effect and Anne would be laughing hysterically at him as he tossed a pillow at her. And then he'd go downstairs, make a cup of tea, eat breakfast, and go on with his day. He'd go to his law studies, go to lunch with some friends, only listen to his One Direction album once through, and work on maths. And then he'd eat dinner, take a bubble bath, maybe listen to his album again, and go to sleep.

But he wasn't waking up. He wasn't clutching his pillow and his mum was miles behind him now as he stumbled up the stairs, Louis' hand still pressed (warmly) against his back. Smiling. Helping him towards the stools where the other girls were sitting, the four boys laughing and joking about. As Harry sat himself down he looked up at Louis who simply winked before walking away, and yes, it surely had to have been a dream.

But the track filled the stadium, Harry knew this routine all too well. He knew what to expect, individual serenades, each time was different but it all flowed in the same way. He smiled until his jaw permanently latched into it's position, his dimples embarrassingly painted onto his face. It hurt, but he was too dazed to care.

Each boy sang, glued to their companion with heart eyes and soft voices. It wasn't until there was a known silence that Harry held his breath because this was the song, this was the one song that he loved so much. He loved it more than life itself, more than anything. 

Louis had a solo. And not just three words, not just a backup; no, Louis had a bridge solo. And it was always wonderful. And Louis stared straight into his eyes for a minute, he swore.  _This_ , Harry reassured himself, _this must be what heaven feels like_. Louis sang to him; held his hand and sang to him and looked into his eyes and smiled at him; hugged him. And the ballad was over. More hugs from each of the four boys, and security helped them down the stairs and back to their individual spots. Anne smiled at him, laughed as he grabbed the disgustingly warm beer from her hands and downed it in seconds.

The rest of the concert went without hitch. The encore, of course, being What Makes You Beautiful, and that was that. The stadium began to file out, buzzing with deafened ears and concert intoxicated teens. Just like that, it was over. Harry would go on the next days living his life without purpose, he thought. No reason to go on. He really didn't think life would be the same. Maybe he could live with the high quality (or even low) photos that would be popping up over the next few days of him and Louis on stage, but that would be it. 

Louis would never know he existed, except for that one five minute period at a concert of twenty thousand people. Excluding the amounts of people he knew the band must meet every day. 

Oh, and he was a guy, so. There was that too.

Managing to pull himself from sulking thoughts, Harry clambered into the van with Anne as she pulled out of the parking spot and they waited in the traffic with the rest of the cars.

"Are we going to talk about how red you were? You matched his pants. Seriously, something we need to discuss?"

Of course.

"I'm just in love with a world famous pop star, that's all. Nothing to discuss, really."

"Oh, babe. I was in your position, believe me. It's the eyes. He had lovely eyes, didn't he?"

Lovely eyes. Lovely was the biggest understatement of his life. Louis' had these eyes, these blue eyes, and fuck. Harry was fucked. Harry was so fucked. 

"Yeah, lovely eyes mum."

The beginning of the ride was relatively quiet, with his mom putting on the radio at one point and singing along to each song that played. When they were about ten minutes gone from the stadium, Harry felt his phone buzz plenty of times. May or may not have the boys' tweets sent as texts to his Blackberry. 

He scrolled through the first few, mostly being Niall or Zayn talking about how hungry they were or how crazy the crowd was or things about the energy in the venue.

The last tweets that got sent in, though, had Harry almost reeling. It was Louis, with three tweets. The first two were normal. He was talking about how excited he was to be able to head home for a few days before they resumed the rest of their tour, excited to eat at Nando's with the boys. But the third and final tweet caused his breath to hitch.

_@Louis_Tomlinson: Green eyes are quite interesting arent they xx_


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> switching to louis’ point of view now so that this can be a little bit longer! still struggling with the whole long chapters thing ew I'm so sorry :(.   
>  louis’ bit starts with right after the concert, just in case it’s confusing. thank you so much for all the wonderful feedback!!!! i can’t believe it ahhh. also idk if people drive those long distances…so apologies if mistakes are made aha.

He doesn't know what to do, other than choke and cough and basically have a complete panic attack.

His mother slams on the brakes, lucky they're surrounded by nothing as they make their way down the A5103. " _Harry_!" she hisses, all but punching him square on the shoulder. "Are you out of your fucking mind?!"

"I didn't mean to, I swear to god. Mum. Look. Mum he- mum he tweeted about me."

She frowns, raising a brow and taking the red phone from her son's shaking hands. Scanning her eyes over the lit screen once, twice, three times, she bursts into laughter. "Does he have a girlfriend?"

"Not anymore."

"So maybe he is talking about you. Or your eyes. You've got wonderful eyes, babe." She's brushing herself off of nothing, cracking her knuckles and shifting the car into drive once more. 

Harry's calmed down, or at least calmed as much as possible with the text screen still held flat to his face. 

_Interesting_. He'd said green eyes were interesting. Harry almost considers tweeting back, saying something along the lines of 'Love me, I'm Green Eyes, please! Love me!' but eventually (after several minutes of typing, deleting, typing again, deleting once more) he throws his phone into the backseat and curls up for the rest of the drive. 

*

"That was wicked!" 

"Absolutely incredible."

"Can't hear out my left ear, mates."

"Oh bug off Li, you never can. Wear your in-ears more often, maybe that'll help."

"Ready for food, I'm starvin'."

It was always a mad dash to get the boys off the stage and away from the venue as quickly as possible. One good nights, they'd take a helicopter depending on where they'd be headed too next. Most nights, it would be a group of tinted Escalades splitting up throughout the cities. 

Tonight, though, they were in no rush. It was off the stage and into the dressing rooms, where snack trays and televisions with gaming consoles awaited them. "Headed back to Donny tomorrow, right Lou?"

Louis looked up from his phone, hitting send with a force before shoving it into his back pocket. He smiled at his Irish band mate, speaking in between shoving finger sandwiches into his mouth. "Yeah, gonna go see mum and the girls. Maybe hang out with Stan and them."

He felt a heavy hand on his shoulder, Zayn's voice flowing over his shoulders. "Definitely gotta drive up and see Perrie before the holiday ends." He's got a beer in one hand, a menthol stick in the other. Even after these years, still smoking. Plenty of doctors telling him to call it quits, that it'll ruin his voice, but he's foolish.

"Tell her love from all of us, yeah?" Louis too grabs a beer, popping it open and taking one long swig. It washes down fresh on his sore throat, something he knows he'll regret in the morning. "Not all of us are lucky enough to still have a girlfriend, even after so long. Can't believe you two are still together. Crazy."

"Lou-"

"I'm not being bitter! Jesus, can we not have this talk after every performance? Can't I just, like, say how happy I am for you and stuff without getting shit about my own problems?"

"You know we all care about you, man. Perrie and I never thought we'd last, to be honest, we always thought it'd be you and El. But I guess-"

"Yeah, I. I."

It's always the same. Back when the band had just started out, Louis had been introduced to a gorgeous floor model named Eleanor. He'd pretty much fallen hard for her, obsessed with everything about her. He knew she felt the same way too. She was a student at university, worked at a clothing store, had a wonderful social life and still managed to love Louis just the same. 

She just also managed to love Mike. In the closet. In Louis' flat. At his own party. 

And that was about it. She cried, he yelled, and the year and a half relationship ended just like that. They never discussed why she did it. He didn't care, frankly. She did it, that was all that mattered to him.

Being the oldest of the group gave him some sort of weird leverage on maturity. He certainly hadn't acted the oldest when they began. It was apart of his charm, though. To be cute and annoying and silly and let Liam take the reigns. But when their current album was out, he'd been approached and kindly asked to maybe be a little bit more serious. 

So he decided that being mature about things like a break up would be best. To not drag things out, don't be bitter or immature about her, he'd tell himself all the time. 

"...wasn't he, Lou?"

But he did miss that feeling of having _someone_ to talk to.

"Earth to Louis."

"Oh, shit. Sorry. Yeah?"

"That guy you picked to come on stage, how old do you reckon he was?"

"Uh. He looked maybe...eighteen? Nineteen?"

He shrugged, dropping down onto the sofa next to the other three boys.

"He had _huge_ hands. And he was kinda strong, like, his hug."

"Are we going to leave out the big elephant in the room and not comment on the fact that he was kind of weirdly obsessed with you, Louis?" Liam spoke up now, setting his phone on the coffee table in front of them. "I mean, all he did was stare at you."

"I can't help being so gorgeous."

"Right, right. But seriously, mate. It was cute. He turned super red when you hugged him, like a tomato or something."

Louis had noticed that. He every once in a while would find a male fan in the fronts of the crowds, deciding that if they'd paid enough money to be that close it was either for a girlfriend or a sister, or because they wanted it themselves. And this boy seemed alone for the most part, standing at the gates with his phone up to try and snap photos. 

He'd had a mop of curly hair, a strong grip when Louis had taken his hand, large feet as well when he'd sat down on the stool. Louis' mind was picture perfect, framing the image of the boy forever. Curly, as he'd nicknamed him. 

Curly with big hands, big feet, and incredibly green eyes. 

-

After another hour of Fifa and beers and roughhousing, Paul and a few other people off their management team knocked on the dressing room doors and gave them a five minute warning. The venue had finally been completely cleared and emptied of any lingering fans, making it as safe as it could be for the boys to take their individual journeys out. 

"Right, then!" Liam crowed, standing up and stretching. "Think Nialler and I will head out, long drive." Niall was protesting, tossing the controller to the couch and groaning. "We'll ring when we get in!"

Zayn was next, staving off the long drive to London as much as possible as he pulled Louis into a tight hug. "I didn't mean anything tonight, kay? We don't give you this much shit on purpose, Lou. It's because we love you." 

Louis could only mumble, smile against Zayn's shoulder before they broke contact. "Text me when you get to London. Wanna make sure none of you die before our next gig."

And just like that, Louis is alone in the dressing room. With the shortest drive, he managed to gather up most of his clothes and things before grabbing keys from Paul. "See you in a week, kiddo."

It would be a long week. 

\--

_@niallofficial: Damn, I'm starving!!_

_@real_liam_payne: week of hols now. great gig 2nite!! x_

_@zaynmalik: Can't wait to see Perrie :) x @littlemixoffic_

_@Louis_Tomlinson: So begins a week of holidays ! Can't wait to see you all at Wembley next Sunday for Teen Awards! xx_

_@Louis_Tomlinson: Nothing will beat tonights crowd._


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i feel really good about this chapter, i guess. mostly in louis’ perspective!! apologies if anything is wrong i.e. information wise i just kind of researched random stuff aha. woo here’s your update i guess if anyone’s actually reading this aha. if anything is wrong just let me know! :P

It shouldn't be _this_ easy. It really shouldn't. There should be a voice in the back of his head, nagging him on about how bad of an idea this is. Something telling him how stupid he's being.

Of course, there isn't. The only voice he hears is that of his sister, laughing at him as they pull out of the driveway in her off white SUV.

_"You're kidding, right?"_

_"Not at all!"_

_"Harry, seriously. Doncaster? You have to go to Doncaster?"_

_"I have to go to Doncaster."_

_"Why?"_

_"It's complicated."_

And that had been the end of the conversation. She reluctantly agreed on the conditions that Harry paid for commodities such as gas or snacks on the near two hour drive. Anne paid for a hotel room, just an overnight visit. They'd leave again the next night and that would be it. Harry had twenty-four hours to miraculously run into Louis Tomlinson in Doncaster. Not a problem. 

He didn't want to come off as a stalker, he definitely didn't consider himself that. He didn't want to stalk the pop star. He just wanted to live like one of those movies where he ran into Louis at "Starbucks, of all places!" and they get a picture, maybe sit and chat over coffee and a slice of coffee cake, even lunch if he's lucky. And then he gains a friend, maybe even a phone number.

_@Harry_Styles: Off to Donny! :D_

It's silly, really. This obsession. He's not ashamed to admit it. He doesn't even want Louis to fall in love with him (and he's pretty sure Louis doesn't swing that way, though his fashion sense may beg to differ). He just wants to be noticed. Like everyone else. He wants a photo; he'll frame it on his desk and set it as his mobile background and desktop wallpaper and Twitter display and maybe even Facebook.

It's a horrible obsession.

"You know, I had the same deal with boy bands. But I think I was like...thirteen."

"Shut up, Gem."

"No I'm being serious here! It's really cute. But you're lucky I have friends in Doncaster, otherwise you would have had to find your own way over."

He does appreciate it. He really does. His mom and sister and everything they do for him, putting up with his bullshit on a daily basis. It's a blessing.

The drive isn't quick, but it's bearable because Harry falls asleep to the lull of the engine. He's woken up soon after by Gemma who's tapping lightly on his shoulder, the car stopped. "The hotel was a Premiere Inn, right?"

It's not bad. It's clean, if anything. Smells mostly like flowers. And it has an indoor pool. The room itself has two beds covered in pure white sheets and pillows and a quilted comforter and a small flatscreen tv and the bathroom is almost as white as the beds. So much so that it hurts his eyes a little with the lights on. 

"Gonna head out then?" His sisters voice creeps up behind him, causing him to jump. "It's only three, maybe your boyfriend gets afternoon tea or something. Do you have any idea where you're going to look?"

Of course he knows where to look (and he's ignoring the boyfriend comment for reasons). But he does know where to look. He knows favorite spots, hang outs and coffee shops and cinemas and the like. He's seen where Louis has been spotted. "I'll be back before it gets too dark. Can I borrow the car?"

She nods, pointed at the keys. "Yeah, Stacy is picking me up anyways. I don't know when I'll be back but don't wait up for me if it gets too late." And then she's retreating to the bed she's claimed as her own. 

He digs through his overnight bag, opting to change out of his blue jumper and into his freshly washed pale black Ramones tee. His favorite shirt, of course. He also pulls off his sweats and steps into crisp black skinnies and grey chucks. And last but not least, he's shoving his mess of curls under a grey knit beanie and smiling at himself in the bathroom mirror. Definitely normal. Definitely not a boy band fanatic.

He's grabbed the keys off of the desk and shoving his room card and wallet into a back pocket, phone in the other. "See ya."

"Good luck!"

\--

"Yeah, yeah. Of course, babe. Hold on. Right here? Okay. And- yeah. I'm smiling! Patience, girls."

Not even inside the coffee shop. Not even near the coffee shop. In fact, Louis had only just gotten out of his car when he was surrounded by a small group of girls.

"Thank you so much, Louis! Love you and the boys more than anything!"

"And we love you, babe. Have a nice day!"

It was a familiar routine, imprinted into his brain for what he felt would be the rest of eternity. He didn't mean to sound like he was complaining, but it was difficult when his world had been turned upside down after X Factor. He was thankful, but of course missed the times when he could walk down the street without getting mobbed.

The coffee shop was one of his safe havens. As many fans that wanted to could pile up outside, but the fire code for the tiny space was restricting against teenage screaming fan girls. So he could sneak in through the side entrance and drink his tea in peace more often than not.

"The usual, Lou?"

"Yes please! I'll be in the corner booth."

It was funny; after coming to the little cafe nearly every da, he found himself able to recognize the crowd. The old men who would read the paper and discuss politics, the blonde tutor and her student who seemed to always be studying maths, the young (skinny) male figure at the maroon couch with a grey beanie and a horribly wrinkled Ramones shirt-

Wait.

The boy fumbled with his phone, seemingly distracted. _Who're you...who are you in MY coffee shop?_ He must have been obvious with his staring, because next thing he knew the boy was looking up and their glances matched. Impossibly green eyes met his, bright and big and nervous about something.

Louis shifted uncomfortably in his seat when his tea was brought to him by the bubbly curly haired female. "Lor, who's that?"

She shrugged, giving the person in question a once-over. "No idea," she said in a hushed tone. "He came in, ordered a coffee, and he's been sitting there for an hour. Mostly on his phone. But I can tell you this, he's not from Doncaster."

He kept his gaze on the boy, unable to place his finger on the fact that something about him was familiar. 

But instead of dwelling on that (read: keeping the boy in his view from the corner of his eyes), Louis pulled out his phone and opened up Twitter.

_@Louis_Tomlinson: New people at my coffee shop. Weird!_

He set his phone down, taking a long and slow sip of his tea. The green-eyed male sat straight up seconds later, reading over his phone screen before quickly glancing at Louis and then back at his phone. _No way._

When he saw the boy begin to type on his phone and then set it down, Louis went straight to his mentions, suppressing a giggle that threatened to escape. He scrolled through before finding one that caught his eye.

_@Harry_Styles: @Louis_Tomlinson caught me..._

Louis grabbed his cup in a firm hand, stood up from the booth and slid himself out. Smiling all the same as he walked towards the beanie-boy. "You cannot possibly be a One Direction fan," he muttered with humor.

And '@Harry_Styles' looked up at him with those piercing green eyes, nervousness seeming to disappear. "Erm, I have a sister? Who absolutely hates One Direction, sorry that's a blag. Yeah, I, uh. You guys are alright."

He had a low and resonant voice, definitely not fitting to his tiny frame. And big hands. Familiar, again. 

But this was all unbelievable.

And yet.

"Just alright? We're just alright, says the boy who I'm guessing didn't just coincidentally waltz right into my favorite coffee shop an hour before I arrived. Just alright?" He was smirking now.

"I heard the black was pretty great."

"Honestly. No one makes it better than Lorraine. Except me, of course."

"I haven't made you tea."

"Careful, babe."

"Harry. I'm, uh. I'm Harry."

"Right."

For a second, Louis found himself unable to move. For no specific reason. But his body reminded him that he was standing and standing for a very long time could be uncomfortable so he slid the wooden chair out from the table and sat himself across from Harry. 

"And where are you from Harry?"

"Uh. Cheshire. Holmes Chapel, to be more specific."

Right.

"And tell me why I'm sitting here with a boy from Holmes Chapel who happened to come to my favorite coffee shop when I might be here on a week that I happened to be home?" That's a checkmate. 

But Harry didn't let it phase him. "I'm eighteen, thanks. About as much of a boy as you. And I- My sister has friends in Doncaster. She offered to let me come along. You happen to live here, too. I guess."

Cheeky. Sarcastic. Louis _loved_ it.

"You look familiar, Harry from Holmes Chapel. Have we met before?" His eyes flickered to the window, could see few cameras and phones and snapping fans. Fantastic. This was fantastic. 

Harry was the one squirming now, running his thumb against his bottom lip and dryly laughing. "Yeah, uh. At the- at the Manchester show the other night. I, uh. You pulled me on stage."

Oh.

"Curly! I think it's the fact that I can't see your hair. I think it's the eyes I liked the most, though. Haha, I tweeted about that didn't I. Embarrassing. You just had amazing eyes. Have. You have amazing eyes." Rambling.

And he could tell Harry was turning that awkward shade of red again, the one that all the other members of the band had said was cute. And it really was. It was faint, but he was smiling with teeth and it really was cute.

He was ready to say something, anything when his phone went off multiple times. Niall calling. "Hi, Ni. What's up? Shit, seriously? Tomorrow? And they want me there by seven? I'd have to leave now and I haven't even packed. Jesus. Okay. Yeah, I'll figure it out. Yeah, bye."

Harry looked up, locking his phone and tapping fingers displacedly on the table. "Something wrong?"

"They need us in the studio tomorrow morning and they want me in London by tonight so we can do some interview, I don't even know. Shit. I have to leave, like, now."

_Oh don't look so disappointed, Curly._

"Look, um. Put your number in my phone, okay? I'll text you or something." Harry nodded, taking Louis' phone with no hesitation and punching in digits and letters. "Alright, I've got to go out the side but it was very nice meeting you- again, that is. And, yeah. Have a good rest of the day, okay?"

"Yeah, you too. Have fun in London." 

Louis was shaking by the time he made it out of the cafe. Turn, look, snap a few pictures with fans, sign a few albums. He half expected Harry to be right beside him, laughing and doing the same. But no beanie-curly haired boy with incredible green eyes met him and instead he was fishing his phone from his pockets. 

_**Harry Styles (aka Curly)** _

No texts yet, he'd wait until he was with the other boys. Instead, he opened Twitter and tapped away.

_@Louis_Tomlinson: Headed to London for surprise studio time! x_  
 _@Louis_Tomlinson: Didn't want to leave._

That'll do.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> here it is! :) kind of longer woo hope you enjoy! feedback is welcome and encouraged :)

Harry didn't immediately go to this phone the minute he got to the car. He didn't keep it sitting in his lap as he made his way from the cafe to the hotel (not getting lost, jittery). And he didn't grip it tight throughout the entire night, jumping every time it buzzed off.

Not at all.

Gemma caught on around dinner that something had happened. So while they sat at a diner with their meals, she pressed closer to her brother in the booth. "Waiting for anything important?"

"Uh. No. Why?" He wasn't looking at her though, instead taking slow bites of his salad.

"You've had your phone glued to your hand all night. Which, I guess, isn't strange. But you're not usually this...nervous."

_Oh remember that member of a boy band I was trying to find? Well I found him and he took my number and he hasn't texted or called me yet so it's not a big deal, right?_ "'m not nervous."

"Did you meet that boybander?"

"Nope. He never showed."

"So...you sat at a coffee house by yourself for two hours?" She was scrolling through her phone.

"Yep."

She continued scrolling, tappig here and there before holding the screen in front of him. "I imagine these aren't real, then? And I follow you on twitter. Bad liar, Harry."

Oh, right.

"He has my phone number. I mean, he made me put it in his phone. _Gemma he has my number._ "

He's kind of proud as his sister gives off sort of an excited squeal, and he's sort of freaking out. Saying words he never imagined he'd actually say. Things he wants to scream at the top of his lungs.

She smiled at him, grabbing for one of the crackers in the basket in front of him. "And? Have you confessed your undying love for him?"

He shook his head, looking at his phone with a quick glance before looking back at his sister. "We just sort of...talked. It was weird. To have this normal conversation with someone so famous? I was so nervous, but it was just really casual. I mean, no one bothered us. In the cafe, yeah. And we talked about..."

It occurred to Harry that they had spent the entire (albeit very brief) time talking somewhat about himself. They barely had what could have constituted as a real conversation before the phone call interrupted them. 

"Did he recognize you?"

"Erm, kind of. He asked if we'd met before and I told him about the concert. And then he called me Curly?" He'd called him Curly at the concert and Harry now hoped it was a nickname that would stick. 

"Is he sweet in person? I've not read very nice things about him...but that could be people starting shit. I guess he's just got maturity issues, that's all I really see."

"He was fine? I mean, we talked for five minutes Gem. He had to leave afterwards. That's when he got my number and snuck out the back."

-

Louis sat in the radio studio, repeatedly typing out small messages like smiley faces and whatnot before erasing them, too distracted from the interview that was about to begin.

"You arli' mate?" Niall clapped a hand on his shoulder, giving a tight squeeze, causing Louis to close his phone quickly.

"Yeah, fine. No worrying, Niall! You'll get wrinkles," he grinned, pinching the Irish boys cheeks. 

"So how was Doncaster? How are your sisters?"

"Girls are great! Lottie took up dressage so I got her a shiny new pair of riding boots and crop. Everyone else is good. Mum is good, Dan is good. Everything is great."

"Good...you sure you're okay? You don't seem yourself, Tommo. Kind of nervous and-" The radio hosts entered the room at this moment, causing Niall to hush as the other two members of the band followed close behind. Louis nodded at both Liam and Zayn, reassuring Niall with a quick "really good, Nialler. Tired, but good."

"Well, shall we get this interview started?"

> Annie _: It's me, Annie, with my lovely cohost James! And we're here with the one and only One Direction. Can't believe after so many years they're back in the Radio 1 studios! How are you boys doing?_
> 
> Liam _: We're good! Just on our short holiday break, hanging out in London doing some studio work for the rest of the week and then we've got the Teen Awards on Sunday! And after that, we head back out to finish the last leg of the tour._
> 
> Annie _: And you just wrapped up your third studio album a few months ago, how's that feeling? How's the music world?_
> 
> Zayn _: It's been pretty neutral, you know? No new music, just this tour and stuff. Of course we're singing the old stuff too. The tour has been loads of fun, but it's nice to be home._
> 
> James _: How's Perrie?_
> 
> Zayn _: She's really great. Little Mix is obviously doing really well and everything is fantastic. Really nice to get to see her._
> 
> Annie _: Now are any else of you in any new relationships? I know Louis you just got out of a serious relation, but anyone you've gotten on with as of late?_
> 
> Louis _: Not really! I mean, you meet so many people on tour and it's hard to really start a relationship when you're constantly moving around. It works better if it's someone you meet on an off period and get to spend more time with them, you know? And if you're really lucky, you'll find someone who's willing to travel around with you. And I guess Niall and Liam are the same, we're the single men of One Direction!_
> 
> James _: Ah well we're gonna finish off this lovely interview by playing the single that started it all! Here is What Makes You Beautiful!_

Find someone to travel around with you. That had been the huge problem with Eleanor. She'd constantly have university or exams or work and their schedules rarely matched up anyways when he was off tour. Everything had been so perfect in the beginning because it had begun mostly in the summer. And El took off the first year of school to go around with Louis and that had been a great first half of the relationship. Then she decided it was time to go back, and that's when it all kind of went to shit.

"So who's the boy?" Liam crept up behind him, holding up his phone to reveal a gossip site as Louis saw.

"Oh, that's Curly! Remember the boy I brought up on stage in Manchester?" The photo was from the windows of the coffee shop, of he and Harry having coffee together. He smiled at the image, remembering the encounter fondly. "He came by Lorraine's and we got to talk."

"Right. In Doncaster?" 

"Long story. But yeah, turns out he's an alright guy. Got his number." 

Zayn was next, smiling as he spoke, "Can we meet him? He was kinda crazy obsessed with you. Ask him to come to London!"

"I guess I'll text him, yeah. He lives in Holmes Chapel. Not exactly close, but-"

"If he can stalk you to Doncaster, I bet he can stalk you to London. Just ask him, jesus," Niall laughed.

"Yeah, yeah."

He reached to his back pocket, grabbing his phone and typing up a new message.

_sorry for leaving so suddenly._

-

Harry's phone buzzed once, twice, three times before he grabbed for it nervously. Gemma laughed, looking over his shoulder.

_sorry for leaving so suddenly. quite enjoyed our conversation though x_

_this is louis by the way_

_louis tomlinson_

"Fuck." Harry was on fire, typing and deleting, staring at the lit up screen with wide eyes.

"Was it him? Did he text you? What'd he say?! Tell me!"

_hope your well curly_

"Gem what do I do? What do I do?"

"Text him back, moron!"

He fumbled with his phone, pressing the send button with a force.

_**I'm better now x** _

What an idiot. 

But the reply comes almost instantly.

_oh? whys that_

**_I don't think many people can say they get to text an international popstar that theyre somewhat mad for_ **

_mad for me? ;)_

**_Completely mental._ **

_harry styles from holmes chapel who thinks one direction is alright. are u flirting with me? we havent even had a proper date_

Flirting? _Was_ he flirting? Was Louis flirting back?

_**Guess we should get on that.** _

Right. He was definitely flirting.

_sorry love, in london for a few days and then its off to tour the rest of this god forsaken country :(_

_the life of an international popstar, cant even make new friends_

Friends. Friends? Friends. Louis wasn't flirting back. He was being Louis, and Harry was reading into things way too quickly. Louis was a natural flirt, he knew this from watching and reading so many interviews.

Gemma watched Harr's contorted facial expressions, laughing every so often at the noises escaping from his lips.

_the boys say hi by the way_

_they want to meet you_

**_Who's the famous one here?_ **

_can you come to london?_

Harry almost dropped his phone.

"What did he say?"

"He...asked me if I could come to London."

-

_@zaynmalik: just did a interview with radio 1! loved the fans outside :) x_

_@Real_Liam_Payne: thx for the gifts and stuff x_

_@Louis_Tomlinson: @eleanorjcalder how are you?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> every chapter will be ended with tweets either from the boys, harry, or both. the tweets are crucial to the next chapter!


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> woo okay i know the beginning probably isn't what you expected....but it is helpful to the story :)

"This is Eleanor Calder. She's a model, super fit at that."

"Stan, no don't lie. I'm not really, I just-"

"You wear clothes for other people to look at in a store, therefore you are a model!"

Louis is trapped in between one of his oldest best mates and some girl with extremely good facial features and gorgeous hair.

"All I'm saying is, get her a drink. Alri' Lou?"

"Yeah, sure." He didn't mean for it to sound such a mumbled mess, but the girl doesn't seem to mind. She smiles, quickly flipping back her bangs and inching closer to Louis.

"So Stan says you auditioned for X Factor and made it to boot camp, yeah? Doesn't that make you somewhat of a celebrity?" Her voice is sweet, not at all what Louis had expected.

"Erm, somewhat? No, not really. I mean." He never really gave it much thought. He made it to bootcamp, the precursor of X Factor that determined if he still really deserved to be there or not. He still didn't feel like he did, though. His voice was the worst out of all the competitors, he couldn't dance for shit, the only thing he felt he had going for himself was his charm and wit. But for some reason the judges had thought it vital to keep him. Maybe as one of the joke acts that make it so far to push out the other competition? Yes, that had to be it.

Louis had been so unsure of himself.

"Right, well. Got a phone number? I'm about to leave, but Stan completely insisted on me meeting you." 

"Forward, eh?" He flashed her a smile, reaching for his phone and placing it in her small palm.

She took it with delicate fingers, long and slender and _almost_ as pretty as his. Almost. "We'll have to meet up in a more intimate setting. No parties!" She pinched her nose, laughing. Louis knew she was only slightly intoxicated.

"Right, more intimate. Erm." Christ, he was getting a good look at her now and she was fit. More than that, she was. She was tall, skinny, and smelled like _poison_.

But Louis had just gotten out of a relationship, had just ended a very serious relationship only because he knew things with X Factor would be so complicated and there was _something else_ but that couldn't be bothered. Not if he had anything to say.

But Eleanor smiled again, handed him back his phone and leaned in to kiss him on the cheek. Louis was only 18, he was in this awkward phase, didn't know how to really handle anything so he gave her a polite quick goodbye and rushed for the door. And that was really it. He didn't think anything would become of it.

But a while later, Stan through another party much similar to the first but to celebrate Louis ceremoniously losing on X Factor only getting a second chance through a _boy band_. 

Louis hadn’t been too certain if he liked the idea of sharing the spotlight with three other people, but they all seemed nice enough. Niall was the youngest, way too over excited blond from Ireland to loved to drink and eat and  _talk_. Next came Liam, who quickly became Louis’ favorite. He was a tall and sensible brunet from Wolverhampton who had been trying out for X Factor for a second time, Louis admiring his courage. And his voice was strong. _He’ll be the front man for sure_. Zayn was the second oldest, somewhat mysterious guy from Bradford. Louis remembered his problems during boot camp when he’d refused to dance, only to prove that he actually wasn’t all that bad. Individually, the four of them were somewhat of a mess. But the judges seemed to think that together, they could win. Louis wasn't sure why he was doubting the whole idea; this was his chance to continue on in the contest. He would put up with the three of them if it meant moving forward.  

"She's here, yes." Stan was doing a small fist pump and Louis' gaze shifted towards the doorway.

Eleanor had just walked in with two other girls, laughing about something. Her smile was dazzling, sparkling. "Oh, you prick." Louis was upset with Stan for something he should have expected, but nervously excited. He and Eleanor had been bbming and texting every so often, nothing more than that, but he had grown to really, really like her. "Shit, she looks gorgeous."

Stan waved her over, grinning as she sauntered over to the two of them. "First off, in person congratulations!" she exclaimed, giving Louis a tight hug. She smelled like an odd mix of flowers, hairspray, and cigarette smoke. Louis _loved_ it. "Can't believe you made it to judges houses, especially with those other lads! Fittest boy band of X Factor, for sure!" Her arm was still slung over his shoulder, and Louis wasn't arguing over how close she was to him. "Seriously, though you're definitely the most attractive in the band..." 

He couldn't tell why his ears were heating up, why he was fighting back a red blush, why he couldn't help himself from leaning over and giving her a peck on the lips. Not even a true kiss, maybe a brush of the lips. "Thanks, babe! Definitely appreciate it." 

It definitely wouldn't be the most courageous thing he'd do that night.

Which was proven a few hours later when he was backed into a corner with Eleanor, biting marks into her shoulder and gripping her hips as she ground down in his lap. "Super fit," she mumbled between kissing him and trying to get his flannel shirt unbuttoned. He was weirdly happy, but there would always be that something in the corner of his mind and that was probably the reason he ended up pushing against her. 

"Sorry, I just-"

"No, it's fine! I'm. I'm really pissed haha, this is. I- I, uh." It was the most conflicted he'd ever seen her look, and he couldn't help himself so he just had to lean in and kiss it away from her. "I really, really like you Lou. Like, a lot." 

After relentless teasing from Stan, paying for Eleanor's cab back to her flat, and somewhat cleaning up of the remains, Louis made his way to the guest bedroom with a glass of water and two nurofen for the sure hangover headache that was beginning to blossom. He'd given Eleanor a kiss goodnight, promised he'd call her in the morning and whatnot to make sure she'd gotten home alive, and fought off Stan's mocking. 

In two days, he'd be moving into a flat in a small complex with the other three boys of the band, close quarters so they could all become friendly with each other. They'd be rehearsing all the time, learning new songs and learning about each other and it would be tiring. Louis wasn't sure if he'd have time for a new relationship.

But he'd felt Eleanor was worth it. He _knew_ she was. She had to be.

\--

"So what are you going to do? That's so sudden, isn't it?! Asking you to London like that. Wonder if he does that for all the fans," Gemma had become too inquisitive, leaving Harry leaning over his phone in a protective manner.

What would he say? What would he do? Go to London all out of the blue like that? Just for some boy band?

"I don't know, I really- I just. Gemma, I was sitting at the coffee table with him and it was so nice. Just the two of us having a casual conversation. I want _more_ of that! I want to be able to talk to him all the time, I don't want to be seen as just a fan..." It was hard for Harry to describe his feelings without getting too over-invested. He really did like Louis. 

**_When?_ **

_hows tomorrow?_

**_Tomorrow?!_ **

_yes_

Before he could properly freak out though, his phone started buzzing incessantly.

" _Tomorrow not alright?_ "

" ** _Tomorrow is...tomorrow. I have a lecture tomorrow!_** "

" _Skip it._ "

" _ **Skip- Okay, Louis Tomlinson, popstar member of world famous iconic One Direction. I'm sure that'll make for a great excuse, and-**_ "

" _Skip it, Styles_."

Styles. He called him Styles. Alright. 

" _ **Tomorrow...will be fine. I think.**_ "

" _Good. I'll text you the details. They're excited! Oh, shit. Gotta go._ " 

The line went dead, leaving Harry in a gaping fish sort of situation. Gemma was poking and prodding at him, asking him what 'tomorrow' meant and why he was skipping a lecture, but Harry couldn't find the words, even as his phone buzzed.

_swing round the radio 1 building tomorrow around 4 and we'll pick u up there. cant wait curly ;)_

Right. Harry Styles was going to London, or something.

-

_@Louis_Tomlinson: can't wait for tomorrow!! x_

_@Harry_Styles: Tomorrow..._

_@NiallOfficial: @Louis_Tomlinson mate u are so crazy ha x_


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is not an actual chapter! This is a half-chapter, I guess. It's a way to give you guys an update (yay it's off hiatus) so I can work on an actual long chapter and continue on with this and plot it out and figure what I'm going to do, because yeah.
> 
> So apologies if it's too short or whatever, but it wasn't supposed to be an actual chapter. 
> 
> Look for a full update Friday or Saturday hopefully! :) Thank you all so much for the kind comments and whatnot, Concert Fever is officially off hiatus!

After several attempts, Harry finally managed to push his sister away so he could retreat to his bedroom in privacy. He glanced at the clock, reading the glowing numbers that assured him it was about an hour to midnight. An hour until the next day, the day he'd be going to London. The day he'd be going to London to meet up with a boy band he was sort of obsessed with; to meet up with a member of the boy band he was sort of obsessed with. It seemed like everything had moved so fast since the concert and the coffee shop, but he figured that's how things worked when dealing with pop stars. He knew Louis and the others would be there for a few days before their Teen Awards performance, but. But he was still trying to calm himself down. It was just weird. 

He grabbed his laptop, pulling up the train information (because there was no way in hell he'd be driving to London, no way in hell his mother would even _allow_ him to drive to London especially if it involved skipping class). He'd have to figure it out. His lecture was at two, and a drive to London was easily three hours let alone a train ride. It's not like he could leave for the university several hours early, not unless he made some stupid excuses. 

Right. Stupid excuses it was. He booked his tickets for the noon train and figured he would deal with his family in the morning. For now, though. For now he would sleep. He would sleep and he would pack a small bag tomorrow morning and he would be off to London at noon and he would be meeting One Direction at four and everything was going to be okay. Yeah. Everything.

Everything was going to be okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feedback appreciated, thank you so much! :)


	8. not a real chapter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> read

Hiiii. So I've got several people asking me when I'm going to start this back up, when am I going to add the next chapter, please update, etc. I'm not really sure how many of you are actually still interested in this story but I really do want to try and get it back up. 

I'm going to clean it up a little and re-post it under a brand new username so it will still be titled _Concert Fever_ but it may be a little different. I'm going to edit it, clean it up, maybe get someone to read over it for me, and HOPEFULLY get it back up and running while I work on other things. 

Thanks so much to anyone who's been patient :)


End file.
